


but the sun does shine in this place some days

by sleeplessmiles



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:39:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessmiles/pseuds/sleeplessmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘I dunno, Turbo. It’s what she did to me. To everyone, really. She big-sisters people.’</p><p>--</p><p>Bobbi tries to befriend Fitz. Fitz is, fair to say, reasonably baffled by the concept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but the sun does shine in this place some days

**Author's Note:**

> If you take your eyes off your favourite characters, even for a second, I will give them a pseudo-sibling relationship. Remain vigilant.

The first time it happens, it seems to Fitz that she’s made some kind of colossal mistake. Bobbi Morse is tall and commanding and effortlessly intimidating, but she’s also warm and friendly and fun-loving and enthusiastic.

And he’s… well. Not, those things. Not at this present moment.

He’s happy enough these days, in the sense that everything is still admittedly pretty terrible in almost every way imaginable, but Jemma is walking around the base, living and breathing and even smiling, on occasion. Most days, that’s enough.

It’s far from everything, and only just bordering on something. But it’s enough.

Point is, he’s still the odd Scottish guy who hasn’t really spoken much to the new people. Or even the old people, really. He’s trying, but it’s a process.

So when he’s lounging on the couch, waiting for Mack to bring back food for the game, the last person he expects to find looming over him is Bobbi Morse.

But he does.

She is.

Complete with a cold beer in her hand.

‘Alright, shove over, little dude,’ she says – demands, really – and when Fitz only gapes at her, she actually physically pushes at his shoulder.

Everyone has been so painstakingly careful with physical contact around him, ever since he snapped at all the reassuring arm squeezes they’d given him following The Incident (he didn’t want their _pity,_ for God's sake). They’ve really only just ventured back into comforting touches more recently.

Basically, he tends to get a bit of warning before anyone touches him nowadays.

So this throws him off completely.

(That is to say: he continues to stare at her in disbelief.)

She looks a little impatient now. ‘Move it or lose it, buddy.’

He finally comes back to himself enough to remember that this is _Bobbi Morse_ and she can probably dismember him with a simple glare. With a slight jump, he rapidly scrambles over to the other side of the couch.

‘ _There_ we go.’ She throws herself down onto the space next to him, making herself comfortable with such a lack of self-consciousness that Fitz would be impressed. If he weren’t still in shock, that is.

She smiles across at him.

‘Cheers.’

Now she’s holding out her beer, which. Okay. Bewildered, Fitz mirrors the action with his own beer. Bobbi clinks it (pretty aggressively, in his opinion) before taking a contented swig. 

And that’s that. She shifts her attention to the football match onscreen; he blinks up at her, probably fairly owlishly, and just… okay, so he’s staring. He knows he’s staring. He knows he’s been doing it a hell of a lot lately. But he can’t think of a single bloody thing to say to her, because he can’t think of a single bloody reason why she’d even be here.

He’s actually not entirely sure this isn’t just some incredibly vivid dream. It wouldn’t surprise him, at this point. It's weird enough and benign enough to be one of those stress-induced things he’s been having a lot lately.

‘I’m not really a big fan of soccer,’ she admits to him, after the silence has stretched out for a long, uncomfortable period of time.

( _Football_ , he corrects automatically, that familiar indignant feeling bubbling up in his chest along with the impulse to argue. It’s a bit of a shocking sensation, really. He hasn’t felt it in a long time.

He doesn’t say anything aloud, though.)

Despite how terribly awkward he feels, Bobbi’s tone is light, conversational and completely at ease. Which, good for her, really, because he’s still trying to figure out what the hell’s going on.

He vaguely registers that Mack’s been gone a very long time for someone who’s just grabbing some snacks.

_Traitor._

It doesn’t help that the game is incredibly boring either, shaping up to be a nil-all draw. He tries not to fidget.

Blessedly, just as Fitz is seriously considering potential excuses to escape the awkwardness, Bobbi drains the last of her beer.

‘This was fun.’ She’s smiling winningly at him – all warmth, not even the barest hint of condescension or pretence.

He still has no idea what to make of it.

‘Erm. Yeah,’ he says stupidly.

Her smile widens at that, and she pats his leg a couple of times comfortingly.

‘Well. Alright then.’

And then, she’s gone.

It’s completely baffling. 

He tells Mack about it a few hours later when they’re playing video games, giving him the main bullet points. When he finishes his story (he only stutters _once,_ take _that_ Universe), Mack only shrugs.

‘What’s your point?’

Fitz shakes his head, still utterly perplexed. He can actually feel himself frowning, which isn’t a good sign. Self-aware frowning is never a good sign.

‘I don’t get it?’

Mack looks a little bemused now. ‘She wants to be your friend, man.’

Fitz blinks.

_Why?_

‘By doing that?’

‘I dunno, Turbo. It’s what she did to me. To everyone, really. She big-sisters people.’

Well. That’s... huh. Alright then.

(The closest he’s ever had to a big sister was Jemma fussing over him and, well. That never really felt like a big sister situation.)

Fitz picks at the label on his beer.

‘Hunter, um. He made her sound terrible.’

‘Yeah.’ Mack thumbs the pause button, reaching over to grab his drink. ‘Sometimes people say things that aren’t entirely true, so that they can hide how much they’re hurting.’

That… doesn’t sound like he’s talking about Hunter and Bobbi anymore. Fitz looks across at him.

Mack only stares back, incredibly pointedly.

So, okay, yes. He’s definitely talking about the thing Fitz thinks he’s talking about. The Jemma thing, that he maybe kind of incredibly downplayed.

‘Yeah,’ is what he finally settles on after a long pause, turning back to the screen and praying Mack will take the hint and drop it.

He does, but not without sighing loudly. ‘Can’t avoid it forever.’

 _I can try_ , he thinks. But he stays silent.

As Mack resumes the game, Fitz’s mind drifts back to the whole Bobbi thing. He still isn’t sure what he’s meant to think about it. A few weeks back, when Skye and Trip had been ‘keeping him company’ in the lab, they’d said Bobbi’d had a thing with Clint Barton. She literally keeps company with Hawkeye and Black Widow.

And Mack thinks she wants to be friends. With him. Leopold Fitz. Who can’t even shave his face without his hands shaking. 

 _Stranger things have happened_ , the voice in his head tells him. _Jemma Simmons wanted to be friends with you_.

Look how well that turned out, he thinks drily, swallowing the familiar surge of feelings at the thought.

He focuses back on the game.

 

\--

 

The next time it happens, he’s less certain that it’s a mistake. Actually, it feels pretty damn intentional.

The team had managed to get their hands on some particularly nasty Hydra technology, and although it’s taken him the better part of a long, grueling day, he’s finally made a substantial breakthrough regarding its internal mechanisms. It’s even enough to give the team a significant lead to chase down.

He’s feeling pretty damn proud of himself, actually, and he’s trying really hard not to look at Jemma as a result. He can practically feel the pride rolling off her in waves, so he knows from experience just how detrimental it would be to look at her eyes right now, to see the pure elation on her face.

It’s like staring at the sun. Or looking directly at burning magnesium.

(He never did figure out how to tear his eyes away from her when it happens. It’s best to just not look at all.)

Jemma’s not the only one exuding pride, though. Coulson tells him he’s done a brilliant job, in those exact words. May is pursing her lips at him in a pleased way, eyes lit up, and Trip’s grinning at him in that dazzling way of his. Skye squeezes his arm, bouncing on her toes a little.

It’s Bobbi who really takes him by surprise, though.

‘Nice catch, kiddo,’ she declares loudly when Coulson’s finished giving everyone instructions. Her smile is wide and delighted.

And then she punches him affectionately in the arm.

Just. Punches him. Just like that. 

_What the…?_

When he looks up at her in question, she simply winks and trails the rest of the team out of the lab.

Jemma’s looking at him, eyes wide and alarmed.

He knows why.

He knows that the Fitz of old would have complained bitterly about the punch for hours, lamenting everything in his life that led up to that one terrible, terrible moment.

He doesn’t do that.

But he sure as hell feels properly aghast and affronted by the whole thing, grumbling a little to himself as he goes back to work.

Jemma seems to relax a little at the sound.

(Maybe the Fitz of old isn’t completely gone after all.)

 

\--

 

By the third time, you would think he could almost preempt it.

This is very much not the case.

They’re in the lab again, and Mack and Bobbi are bickering over something or other. Fitz has sort of tuned them out, the cadence of their argument reminding him just a little too much of how he used to be with Jemma. It’s making him feel sort of unwell, really.

But then he hears his name.

‘He won’t have a thing to do with it, right Turbo?’ 

Fitz’s eyes widen, startled. ‘Uhhh.’

‘Oh, come on!’ There’s a laugh in her tone. ‘Fitz is cool with it, aren’t ya?’

‘… Maybe?’

Bobbi smiles, pleased at his answer, while Mack groans in the background.

And then, on her way out of the lab, Bobbi goes and _ruffles his hair_.

He stares after her, horrified. Mack looks pretty dismayed at having lost the argument, but he takes one look at Fitz’s face and starts howling with laughter.

This is getting out of hand.

 

\--

 

He stops counting after the third time, but it’s probably numbering somewhere in the double digits by the time he finally decides to say something.

Weirdly enough, it happens under circumstances that are pretty much the same as the first time; he’s sitting on the couch, playing some nondescript shooting game (that is, in all honestly, pretty awful, but Mack seems to enjoy it) and Mack has just stepped out to go do something for Coulson.

Fitz hears her voice ring out across the room well before he sees her.

‘There’s the little guy!’

The familiar urge to object to that rises up within him as she walks over, sitting down next to him on the couch. This time, however, he gives in to it.

‘Why do you keep calling me that?’ he asks her, annoyed.

Her entire face lights up in delight.

‘He speaks!’ she exclaims, but there isn’t even the slightest hint of malice in her words. She sounds genuinely happy, actually.

He just stares at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. Bobbi shrugs.

‘I don’t know. You’re little. You’re a guy.’

He continues to stare at her, looking for some actual explanation. She stares right back, deadpan, before a smile spreads across her face.

‘That’s honestly it, pal. Take it or leave it.’

‘So you’re picking on me because I’m short.’

She’s indignant at that, mouth gaping. ‘I’m not picking on you! I say it with affection!’

(She does, actually. It always sounds really fond. He thinks that’s maybe what’s been throwing him off, along with, you know. Everything else.)

‘Yeah, well, I think you’ll find my height is perfectly normal, thank you very much.’

‘Whatever you say, short stuff.’

He frowns. ‘And there are loads of guys shorter than me.’

‘I’m sure there are – ’

‘ – Besides, it’s not my fault you people are all freakishly large.’ He slouches down on the couch a little, frown deepening.

Her eyebrows are raised, lips pursed to hold in her laughter.

‘What?’ he demands. Then, he thinks. And he realises.

‘Is this – have you been doing this on purpose?’

‘And we have a winner!’ she declares with a flourish, a laugh in her voice. ‘I gotta hand it to you: I did _not_ think I would have to work this hard. So kudos on the self-control.’

She has quite literally been annoying him into conversation.

Despite himself, despite the fact that this sort of thing would normally irritate him beyond measure, Fitz feels a small smile grace his lips. It’s a reaction that truly surprises him.

(Her enthusiasm _is_ kind of contagious.)

‘God. I didn’t think you’d even make it past the first _day_. I mean, honestly: “soccer?”’

She takes another swig of her beer, smile huge. Fitz finds he’s mirroring the expression.

‘The first time I called it soccer to Hunter – by _accident_ , for the record – he didn’t talk to me for a full day and a half. Then, of course, when he _did_ , he started calling American football “handball,” which makes absolutely no sense…’

She shakes her head, cutting herself off.

‘Anyway. You have done admirably, young grasshopper. You still have much to learn, but I am well-pleased at your progress.’

Fitz looks down at his controller, tracing one of the buttons with a thumb as he mulls over the past few weeks.

One glaring question remains. 

‘Why?’ he asks her, voice quiet. He looks up at her.

She regards him more seriously, now, face thoughtful. ‘You looked like you could use a friend.’

He blinks.

‘Not that you don’t have friends,’ she hastens to add. ‘You just… looked like you needed it.’

And the thing is, she’s right. As great as Trip and Skye have been, he just really needs someone to talk to normally – someone who didn’t know him _before_. Mack’s been giving him that, but sometimes, on occasion, Fitz feels like he can’t really speak openly about around the other guy. He’s very firm in his opinions, and Fitz feels kind of steamrolled by them a lot of the time.

So Fitz finds himself nodding in response.

Apparently satisfied with that, Bobbi turns back to the screen.

‘Alright then! You need a second player for this thing?’

Her voice is so light and unencumbered that it’s hard to believe the conversation had been so solemn only moments ago. Fitz shakes his head a little.

‘Ah. Yeah, sure.’ Then, with a cheeky smile that comes out of _nowhere_ , he mutters, ‘You bloody giant.’

She gasps dramatically, mouth twisting into a pleased smile.

‘What did you just say to me?’

Fitz only smiles back at her.

‘Okay, pipsqueak. Just for that, I’m going to kick your ass.’

‘I’d like to see you try,’ he shoots back.

Bobbi’s openly laughing now, hitting at his leg to get him to move across and give her some room.

 _She big-sisters people_ , Mack had said.

Fitz looks across at her, at the way she's loudly complaining about the controls with a massive grin on her face.

His chest feels a little lighter.

_Big sister, indeed._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


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